Ten Points
by MelancholyMadness
Summary: Creativity goes a long way. AU FrUK


**Ten Points**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia or the characters. I don't own the countries of world either. I'm too passive for world domination.

For as long as Arthur could remember, Francis had been flirting with him. Now, this was admittedly a very long time because (despite Arthur's best efforts to forget) they had been arguing and flirting (The flirting was only on Francis' part of course, because Arthur would never flirt with a slimy frog like Francis) with each other since they were children. In fact, if Francis had suddenly stopped spouting innuendos to him, Arthur would probably have wondered about the damn frog's health.

Francis' cheesy pickup lines and pointless flirtatious remarks were a daily occurrence in Arthur's life and slowly became increasingly suggestive up until Arthur moved away at the start of the twelfth grade. They lost touch as their workloads increased and by the end of high school, the two were barely speaking to each other at all, if ever. They'd grown apart with time. Arthur had no idea what had become of Francis Bonnefoy, the annoying Frenchman that he had a love-hate relationship with.

Whenever Arthur had any spare moments to simply think and relax, which wasn't actually very often because his writers craft teachers worked him like a pack mule, he often found himself reminiscing about Francis and the seductive lines he used to say. In all honesty, though he'd never admit it to that blasted Frenchy, Arthur missed Francis and he actually didn't mind all of the sexual innuendos that went along with spending time with the tease of a Frenchman. However, he would not delude himself into thinking that he'd ever see the seductive man again. They had each taken different paths in life. The Earth and its population were not small and the likelihood of running into each other was slim to none.

With these thoughts being taken into consideration, when a light, almost playful knock sounded at Arthur's door at 11:00 at night, what he was most definitely not expecting was to see a slim and lightly muscled man with flowing blond locks and features that would make a teenaged girl swoon standing at his door, a playful smirk painted on his face.

"Bonjour mon petit Anglais~ Est-ce que tu me manques?" He purred, seduction practically seeping from every pore in his body.

Arthur sighed. "Ugh... For a second I thought I was just imagining your barmy face at my door, but even my head couldn't come up with a language as hideous as that." Arthur said as he took a step into the hall and closed his dorm room door, making sure not to lock himself out in the process.

"So you imagine about me, mon cher? Ahonhonhon~" Francis waggled his eyebrows and took a step closer to Arthur.

Arthur rolled his eyes as he moved away from Francis, stepping into a familiar pattern from previous years. "The only time I'd ever imagine about a snail slurping wanker like you would be in a nightmare. What are you doing here, arsehole?"

Francis sighed dramatically and slipped an arm around Arthur's shoulders. "Oh mon ami, your cruel words wound me to the soul! Is it so hard to believe that I simply decided to drop in for a visit, mon chou?"

Arthur, not even needing think about it, stepped out of Francis' hold. He crossed his arms, looking very unimpressed. "I never told you my address, you barmy git. How did you find out my university, let alone my room number?"

Francis waggled his eyebrows suggestively and moved closer to the Brit, so that their breath mingled, sending shivers down Arthur's spine and a flush creeping up his neck. "I followed mon cœur, mon amour."

Arthur ducked around Francis, giving himself breathing room, sucking in a deep breath of much less steamy oxygen. They'd officially made a full circle in the hallway. "That's a load of bullocks, you cheese eating surrender monkey, and we both know it!"

Francis continued their strange dance as he once again stepped toward Arthur, this time slowly running his hands up his chest. "Mon ange, you jump to conclusions. I attend this l'université aussi. J'ai entendu ton nom, et I simply inquired avec toi. It was not hard to do, mon petit lapin."

Arthur noticed the hand's path and jumped away, shoving Francis off of him in the process. "Get your bloody hands off of me, prat! A-And that still doesn't explain why you had to bloody look for me!"

Francis pushed Arthur up against the wall, his hands on either side of Arthur's head, pressing their bodies together, much to the brit's discomfort and secret pleasure. "Oh, ma petite puce, are you trying to tell me that you did not think of me at all while I was not with you?" He turned his head and blew lightly into Arthur's ear.

Arthur squeaked and struggled to get himself free, eventually managing to after a nice knee to Francis' groin. "O-Of course not! Only a fool would think of you after finally ridding themselves of you!" Arthur let out a few slightly hysteric forced laughs.

"Eh bien," Francis approached Arthur, not touching him this time, still feeling the consequences of the last time he had in his nether regions. "J'ai pensé avec toi, mon chaton. I also thought about how wonderful it would be pour tes lèvres to connect with mine own and blend together in sweet harmony~"

Arthur stepped away, keeping a safe distance from the Frenchman. "The only blasted things connecting in sweet harmony will be my fist and your face, wanker, if you keep at it."

Francis once again stepped towards Arthur, but this time he lowered himself to one knee and gently took one of Arthur's hands, pressing his lips to it softy. "Your fist and my face have connected. Now kiss me, s'il vous plaît?"

Arthur shook his hand away and wiped it on his pants as if his hand had been infected or covered in something disgusting. "No way in hell, wanker! Now go away, back to your own blasted room. It's bad enough that I had to see your rancid face at all tonight..."

Francis leaned into Arthur and looped an arm around his waist. "Malodorant? I smell of roses and rich red wine!" He smirked and waggled his eyebrows, pulling the Brit in closer. "I'm sure that I taste of roses and wine, aussi. Why don't you test for me?"

Arthur shook Francis off and walked away from him a few steps in a bit of a huff, facing the opposite direction when he stopped. "I don't need to test your grotty taste, you frog!"

Francis smirked, looping both his arms around Arthur's waist, hugging him from behind. "Mais mon cher, it is said that if you kiss a frog he will turn into a prince, oui? Aren't you curious?"

And for once, Arthur didn't respond right away. It was his turn in their game and his turn for a counterattack, but all he could do was smirk as a faint glimmer of mischievousness appeared in his eyes. After a tense moment of silence, Arthur turned around, not making a move to remove Francis' arms, so that their bodies were pressed together, being held together by Francis' grip around his waist.

Their breath mingled and they both shivered as their eyes connected for the first time that night on a serious level. The smirk on Arthur's face stayed present though, even as he slid his hands up Francis' chest and looped his arms around the Frenchman's neck, pulling him down so that they were eye level.

When their lips finally touched, the two released all of the pent up sexual tension they had stored in the years they were apart. Their mouths opened and the two fought for dominance in the kiss, just as they had previously fought for dominance in the argument. Francis' back hit the wall as they continued to lock lips. Arthur wove his fingers into Francis' hair, causing Francis to let out a moan while their lips moved greedily against each other.

Just as the kiss seemed to deepen even more, Arthur took a step back, panting a little. His face was flushed and his lips swollen, but the smirk was right back on his face. Francis stood leaning up against the wall looking disheveled as well, with wide eyes and his jaw hanging open. He was in complete shock.

Arthur spun around and walked back to his room, leaving the surprised Frenchman in the hallway. Just as he was about to enter the dorm, he turned back to look at Francis, who was still frozen in a daze, and said with a smirk, "Ten points for creativity." Then he did an about face back into his room, shutting the door and locking it.

Both men on either side of the wall proceeded to slump down to the ground, a content smile forming on their faces as they realised what had just happened. "Finally."

**AN** This was _SO_ fun to write! I'm not even joking here. While I wrote this, every paragraph I switched between two website. One for Endearing French Terms and the other for British Curses. I'm not a fan of writing kiss scenes, so I hope I didn't fail. This was posted for Francis' Birthday and could be taken as a prequel to my fic "Hope in the Strangest of Ways". Thank you for reading! **-Ash**

Review please?


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